


Rickstreme Fatigue

by ScorpionCloudStories



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alcohol, Almost Drowning, Angst, Asphyxiation, Choking, Drinking, Drowning, Drugs, Established Relationship, Fluff, Freestyle, Ocean, Other, POV Second Person, Unspoken Bond, a little nsfw, ambiguously gendered reader, mention of drugs, ocean monster, tw suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:22:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24636766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScorpionCloudStories/pseuds/ScorpionCloudStories
Summary: When Rick is upset and everyone close to him is mad at him, he turns to you. But lately he's been turning to you a lot, and it's taking a toll on you. You decide to speak the only language you know he knows how to speak fluently; pulling a dangerous stunt to make a stupid point.
Relationships: Rick/Reader, Rick/You - Relationship
Kudos: 10





	1. Dumb Rickle Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being dragged everywhere by Rick, and having little to no time for yourself anymore, you get fed up. Rick pulls you out of bed in the wee hours of the morning to go partying, but you're miserable. While telling him off, you devise a scheme.

It was 3:48 in the morning. You were rudely awoken, forced out of bed, and forced to dress by Rick Sanchez. Presumably it was one of his drunken misadventures. He must have really gotten his feelings hurt by something, probably Morty, which is why he's bothering you and not Morty. All the while Rick has been rambling about.. geopolitics and the fragility of worldwide currency markets. You couldn't care less, you just wanted to get whatever this was over with.

Rick would load you into his ship and take off somewhere west. His rambles were now about how family is unreliable. You honestly couldn't care less to tune in. While he went on and on, your eyes would be locked to the outside. It was dark, but it was interesting to watch. The tired mind thought to itself how one never sees the world at night from this vantage point. It was.. eerily peaceful.

It wouldn't last. Rick noticed you weren't paying attention to him and he just couldn't have that.

"Hey! Are y-" _burp_ "-ou paying attention? A-a-all of this is a valuable life lesson." He said rather loudly, to get your attention.

"Where are you taking me?" You asked with a sigh, briefly glancing in Rick's direction but immediately diverting your gaze out the front windshield to watch the oncoming path.

"Where am _I_ taking _you?_ Th-that's a little conceited. I'm going somewhere and I decided to take you with me but that's not me taking you somewhere." Rick said, eyeing your way every few seconds.

"Okay." You reply.

"If we're going to call it anything, call it by what it is. I'm going somewhere and you just so happen to be accompanying me." Rick continued.

"I get it." You reply, firmly.

"I mean, it's no coincidence you're with me. But I had options on who to bring with me. Like, an infinite number of options. You're only here because you're the easiest to get out of bed this early in the morning." Rick pressed on.

"God damn it, Rick, I get the goddamn point!!" You shout, utterly frustrated with hearing how interchangeable you are. You'd fold your arms and slump into your seat, looking back out your side window for a moment before closing your eyes. Partly because you were tired and wanted to rest them, and partly because you were trying to fight back tears. In a quieter tone of voice, you'd continue on to say, "If I'm just along for the ride then wake me up when the ride is over."

"...Whoa. Touched a nerve, there." Rick said, pausing for a moment of silence before continuing. "Man.. what a buzzkill. What the hell's your problem?"

There was an intense pressure in your chest. It was rage. You'd sit up in your seat and turn to face Rick, momentarily forgetting about the tears you were trying to fight back. "What the hell is **my** problem?! You!! You're my goddamn problem, Rick! I'm so sick of this stupid game you play!!"

"Stupid game?" Rick repeated inquisitively.

"Yes. This stupid, idiotic game you play where you hate yourself so much that you're never satisfied until everyone around you hates you and themselves." You elaborate, finding the rage enough to quell the tears in your eyes and the sadness in your heart. "And when you finally get your way, everything is shitty and awful. Everybody can't stand you, and you hate yourself, and seek out the next person to sink your predatory tendrils into to drain them of any energy to fight you off while you drink yourself into a blackout and feed off of their emotions like a frickin' vampire."

"Excuse me?" Rick asked, his tone getting increasingly annoyed.

By now, the ship was over the North Pacific Ocean. A feeling in the pit of your gut was telling you now that pissing Rick off while you were this far away from home was probably not the best idea. You elected to ignore it.

"I'm so tired, Rick. Tired because you dragged me out of bed at 4 in the morning. Tired because you did the same thing yesterday and kept me out for 20 hours, and then the night before at 3 am, and then the night before that." You said, your anger becoming a desperate resignation.

"Look-" Rick began, but you interrupted him.

"No, _you_ look. I can't be your crutch anymore. You always ask so much of me and take so much more out of me. It's not fair to _me_ anymore. So just.. take me home and go get one of your infinite other replacements instead. I want to go back to bed." You said, finally wrapping up your rant as you slumped back into your chair and hugged your arms to your chest.

A moment of silence passed. Then, Rick stopped the ship. Right above the ocean. It would stop to a hover, and Rick would look your way.

"You done?" He'd ask.. You don't know why you expected differently.

Instead of answering him, you'd roll away from him and lay on your side on the seat. It was uncomfortable, but you'd much rather bear it than the brunt of Rick's counter-rant. Of course, the latter was inevitable regardless.. It always was.

"Hey. _Look._ I, uh.. I just needed to go for a drive. And someone to listen to me.. I didn't know it was such a, y'know.. burden." Rick said softly.

Your eye twitched. "Don't pull that on me, old man. You cannot possibly make me feel shittier about you making me feel like shit. And you and I both know that you're lying, because we never go on a drive.. ever."

"Okay, well.. maybe this time is different." Rick replied, rolling his eyes but trying to sound sympathetic.

"You're lying to me again. All you do when you get called out is lie and come up with bullshitted excuses _so_ stupid that people actually believe them. Because nobody can dispute the _smartest man in the universe_ because there isn't even a possible fraction of a _modicum_ of a possibility that this man can't ever be wrong because he's the smartest and nobody can ever dispute him because they can't do the things he can do." You replied to him, looking him dead in the eye to let him know that you mean business.

Rick stared you in the eye back for a moment of tense silence.

"....Did you even breathe once at all when you said all that?" Rick said, quite obviously breaking the silence.

 _"Rick."_ You whine, getting ever increasingly frustrated with this gods-awful man.

"No, seriously. What is with your lung capacity?" He asked, turning his body slightly towards you.

You noted his body language, but also recalled the fact that you were still stalled above an ocean. He's got you trapped.. in those predatory tendrils.


	2. Ricking on a Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clearly Rick is scheming something too. Even despite your desire for a break and how much you persisted in resistance, Rick breaks you down enough into drinking. It was a good excuse to.. ease his guard down.

"Rick, please, I'm exhausted.." You plead, rolling over slightly so that you were sitting down properly on the seat. Your arms were folded, and your legs were crossed. Closed off body language.

Rick eyed you up and down, his gaze like a predator that's mapping out his prey. He'd wait for another tense moment of silence.

"...You know, since we're above the ocean, why don't we do a little experiment." He said, putting on an innocent voice.

"Experiment?" You repeat, feeling in the pit of your gut that this man was dangerous and you needed to run. Where would you go, though? Where _could_ you go? There's only one way out..

"Yeah. Just a little experiment to test lung capacity." Rick continued.

You sighed, uncrossing your arms & legs, to undo your seatbelt. You wouldn't look at him but you knew he was watching your every move. You could feel those eyes burning into your skin as they moved to look you all over. Only one way out.

You'd glance past Rick to his door briefly before looking him in the eye. You saw everything you needed to, the door was locked. Which means yours would be too. You'd have to unlock it from his side if you were going to get out of here.

"What would you have me do, then? I'll do anything if it means you'll bring me back home." You tell him, sounding of resignation and exhaustion.

Rick looked somewhat taken back. But he's no bitch so he'd reach into the back seat of the ship and pull out several unlabelled bottles of.. dubious contents. And he'd hand you one, and take one for himself, and set the others down between them. "Chugging contest. You and me. Come on, you've still got that party animal in you.. I can see it in your eyes."

Heh.. _that's_ what he sees in your eyes? Fuck it, you knew he was manipulating you.. Or at least he probably thought he was. But sometimes the best way to beat someone, is to join them. Even temporarily..

"After forcing me to party with you for days, are you sure you can handle a dumb little 2 person pity party? I thought you were dragging me to a huge party on Earth that you didn't want to admit to." You say coyly, twisting the cap of the bottle off. To your surprise, it wasn't a twist off. But it came off anyway. Rick seemed to have noticed that as well.

Rick cleared his throat and used a bottle opener he had in his lab coat. "Look, you got me. But for real, I promise, after this it'll just be a drive and talking. No party. Scouts honour."

A part of you wanted to believe him.

You and Rick would raise your bottles, and count back from three. With a tink of the bottles together at 0, you'd both throw the bottles back. It took you about 4 second to chugg it, and you had air to spare afterwards. It took Rick 7 seconds, and he gasped a bit when he was done. 

It tasted.. vaguely alcoholic. But unidentifiable by Earth standards. You looked at Rick, then at the bottle in your hand. "What did I just drink?" You asked.

"No idea." Rick replied. "I tend to drink first, a-" _belch_ "-sk questions later."

Rick threw his empty into the back seat and grabbed another bottle. He then looked you in the eyes briefly to make sure he still had your attention, while he put the bottle neck into his mouth and bit off the bottle cap with his back molars.

As he spat the bottle cap out to the back seat, you'd give him some nods of approval. "Impressive. Except, for one thing."

Rick's eyebrow raised. You'd show him the palm of your hand. The hand you used to crank open the not-twist-off bottle cap. It had a small, shallow gash with broken skin hanging off both sides of the open wound & pools of blood smushed all over from your handling the bottle after the opening of the bottle. With a cheeky grin, you'd finish your thought.

"You missed the part where dumb luck has consequences."

Rick opened his mouth to reply, but you put your finger over his lips and shook your head. "Hush, don't ruin this for me." You say to him. He'd close his mouth, and you'd retract your hand which then grabbed a bottle. He'd watch you while taking occasional swigs of his bottle.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a butterfly knife. An expression of concern crossed Rick's face at your somehow possessing a knife this whole time. You'd flip it open with flourish because of your strong hands & constant butterfly knife trick learning, and put the blunt end of the blade to the bottle. Rick's eyes were scanning every move you made. You could still feel them burn on your skin. You'd avoid making eye contact with him while you performed your trick. You started gently tapping the bottle with the knife, small little bumps. Then, it picked up. You'd tap the bottle with the blade to the rhythm of your vocalizations. Both on the neck of the bottle, and the hull of it. And for the grand finale, you'd swing the blade diagonally at the bottle cap, and take off the top of the bottle itself. Like the shaped brim would be broken off, leaving the bottle neck with sharp glass edges. Well, you got the damn thing open. That's all that matters. While you brought the bottle to your lips, careful to not cut yourself on the sharp edges, you'd flick your butterfly knife closed and put it back in your pocket. The booze was starting to make you feel kinda fuzzy.


	3. Ricking Time Bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mystery booze was starting to have its way with you. Whatever it was, it did not bring on a happy buzz. Your interactions with Rick were a bittersweet mixture of the dynamic you loved so much, and the cruel reality of it all. It gets a bit deep, and helps bring you so much closer to executing your scheme.

The booze.. It was making you feel fuzzy. Slightly uninhibited. Like you wanted to climb on top of the ship and scream into the heavens what a miserable, worthless life you were on this dumb rock hurtling through space around a damn star. Not even a cool star, either. Just a dumb lame yellow dwarf star. How fitting that the star be just as small and insignificant in the universe as the life that's trapped in its orbit. Man, you've been spending too much time with Rick. Nihilism is contagious around him.

Still.. It made you wonder...  
"Does going out like this, dragging me everywhere, all this partying and clubbing and bar hopping and getting into fights... Does any of it make you happy? Is there any part of this stupid game you play that brings your stupid, dumb, idiot, genius brain even a tiny shred of serotonin?" You ask him, looking his way while taking a sip of your drink. For now, you decided to forget the sharp glass edges that would be directly on your lips. You decided to let fate decide whether you cut your lips on glass or not. All you have to lose is some blood, and all you had to gain was permanent nerve damage. NBFD.

Rick didn't look at you. He just sipped his drink silently, staring off into the horizon where the sky met the ocean. The stars looked.. really pretty tonight. He wouldn't ever talk about this, you knew as much. He needed to be persuaded.

You'd down the rest of your bev in a single go and toss the empty into the back seat. Fate decided to spare your lips from getting cut up by the broken glass bottle. That would catch Rick's attention, but only from a side glance. You'd take a new bottle of booze and hold it out to Rick. "Nevermind.. Could you open this for me?"

Rick would look your way for a moment, looking you up and down. He'd note your demeanour.. You'd have a small smile, your other hand would be resting on your lap, and your body was turned slightly to him as you held out the bottle. He looked suspicious, but he still took the bottle from you. He gave you his to hold, as he's done numerous times in the past.

See, he trusted you to not do anything with his drink except hold it. It was an unspoken thing you two had between each other. Because on some level, you two really did connect. It was just his boneheadedness that really irritated you of it all.  
Well that, _and_ the lack of sleep.

Still.. You two only met at a party a few weeks ago, and it feels like you've known each other for at least 8 months. You two had a connection, and it was unspoken. And you were feeling it now.. But was he? Currently he was opening your bottle with his molars again, since he figured that's what you wanted of him. (It was.) So clearly, he was feeling the connection too. The invisible string that binds you two together, like a soup-can-on-a-string telephone of the soul. ...Huh. Anyway..

He handed you your drink, you gave him back his. But you noticed, where the hell's the bottle cap? You didn't see him spit it out, you've been watching him this whole time. You quirked a brow and gave him an inquisitive look. He gave you a glance for a moment before spitting out the bottle cap with some blood & spit. Right onto his floor mat. Gross...

"What was that you said about dumb luck having consequences?" He asked, giving you a shiteating, bloody grin.

You sighed and shook your head, but couldn't help from smiling. It was ridiculous how everything was a point he had to prove, but nothing mattered.. He was still human, after all.. He knew it mattered. He still cared.. He'd never admit to it. If he did, it'd probably just be part of a ploy to save ass and played off as fake.

Whatever.. it wasn't your problem to dissect his character. You were just his party buddy that he has an unspoken bond with, and would mutually rather keep it unspoken. Because if it's spoken about, things will get weird. We are not spokening about it.

You'd sip your drink, he'd sip his.

"The stars are beautiful tonight..." You said.

"Why haven't you said anything yet?" Rick asked.

"What do you mean?" You asked in reply.

"Like, 10 minutes ago you were whining about me not taking you home. Now, you're drinking with me like you're suddenly not mad about me bringing you out here. Like we're not hovering above an ocean, far away from where you live.." He replied.

You'd pause a moment to think. 

"Because... Whining about going home made you stop the ship above the ocean, far away from where I live.. From there, it lead to drinking.. And now that I'm drinking, I'm thinking to myself.. what's the point of resisting you anymore? I'm thinking.. if everything is truly meaninglessness, then maybe I should just do what I can while I'm still alive in this meaningless universe.. If fun kills me, then so be it." You replied, almost convincing yourself that it was all true.

"Huh.." Rick... vocalized?

"But a part of me doesn't want to die. And I'm thinking to myself.. I trust you enough to try and keep me from dying, if it ever comes to it. Because I'm thinking I'd do the same for you.. if it ever came to it." You finished, taking a large swig of your drink. One gulp and half of its contents were gone, after only sips of it prior.

"And what could _you_ do to save me?" He asked, looking your way without an expression on his face.

"Don't be shitty, Rick." You remarked.

"No, no. I'm not trying to be." He replied, waving his free hand like _no no_. "I.. I really want to know. How would you save me?"

You shrugged. "It depends on what you needed saving from."

Rick sat in silence for a second before taking a swig of his drink.

"You know.. despite my fussing, I have had fun with you. Memories that will last a lifetime.. And I wouldn't mind making more with you." You'd say, looking over to Rick with an expression of harmlessness. And then you'd sloooowly drink the rest of your beverage, and nudge his knee gently with yours.

You'd notice Rick's eyes widen ever so slightly. You knew what he was thinking about. It's not like it hasn't happened before, of course. Drinking and partying and drugs can make a couple of people do some wild things together. But this time, it would be weird, because it would just be the two of you, no drugs, not a whole lot of partying, and unknown drinks. The window of opportunity was closing.


	4. Getting fRicksy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disarming the walking armoury? It should be harder, but the stars were aligned in your favour. You've got him where you want him, and get where you need to go.

You'd turn your body more towards him and gently place your hand on his knee. You'd give him a half smile, putting more effort into a genuine eye. Eyes that can be read as having genuine intentions. Rick looked.. unsure. You'd gently give his knee a squeeze, then slide your hand to his mid thigh. His leg would tense up slightly and only for a moment. This time, you'd give him a wink. A signal.. You were thinking what he was thinking. He'd ponder a moment longer, before eventually relenting with his own smile. His free hand would pat his lap for you. Yes, you got him.

Carefully, you'd climb over him and straddle his lap, with your chests together. Of course you'd leave a little room for comfort. You'd rest your hands on his shoulders and lean in to brush your nose against his ear. A nuzzle. He'd reciprocate the physical contact by resting his free hand on your waist and sliding it down to your hip, which he'd give a little squeeze. All of these gestures were so simple, but they had so much meaning & intent behind them. You could feel your heartbeat start to pick up. It was amazing how a simple touch from him was enough to get your heart going.

He'd take a swig of his drink, but some would drip from his lips down his chin and neck. You knew what he wanted from you. The second he pulled the bottle away, you'd slooowly lick the alcohol from his chest, up his neck, chin, and eventually to his lips. Your lips would meet his. He tasted like the booze and Rick... Strangely, it was comforting. He'd break the kiss a moment and ask you "You know what I'm thinking of right now?"

"My lung capacity?" You'd ask, bringing one of your hands up to caress Rick's cheek.

"You know me so well." He'd reply, tilting his head into your hand a bit before leaning in to press his lips back to yours. Your eyes would close as you two shared a passionate kiss.

And during the kiss, you'd occupy both your hands to help Rick take off his lab coat. When your right hand slid down his left arm to hold the sleeve so he could pull his arm out, you'd _accidentally_ knock the unlock button for the doors. And to make sure he couldn't hear the click of the locks, you'd break the kiss rather noisily. Delicious, right?

You'd lean in to bite his ear while he downed the rest of his drink. He wanted to get both of his hands on you. As soon as the bottle was empty, he tossed it in the back. With his hand now unoccupied and both of his arms freed from his lab coat, he'd slide his hands up your back before bringing them down along the side of your chest, your waist, your hips, and eventually.. your adorable butt. He'd give your ass a squeeze. In response, you'd press your chest against his, and kiss & bite his neck gently. Never leave marks, that was the rule. You never cared if he left any on you, and he knew that. But he cared, and you knew that.

He was so vocal.. With his grunts and moans. Actually, you found it somewhat cute. Your lips would meet once again, and he'd give your ass a firm squeeze. You'd break the kiss and moan softly against his lips, and he'd let out a low rumbling noise that could be described as a growl.

"Rick.." You'd whisper.

"Yes..?" He'd answer.

"Do you _really_ want to test my lung capacity...?" You'd ask.

You'd lower your hand to one of his and carefully navigate his hand to your neck, and you'd close his hand around your neck. His eyebrow raised. He was disturbed, but intrigued. He'd give your throat a test squeeze, and you'd close your eyes a moment. When he let up, you'd take a deep breath. And when you were settled down, Rick squeezed down on your neck with more pressure. It took you by surprise how intense he went in, but you were also kinda into it. He'd stop your breathing entirely, but you had time before that became a legitimate problem.

In the meantime, you'd carefully turn around so that your back was to his chest with his hand still around your throat. You'd rest your left hand on the door, and your right hand would be over Rick's free hand, which was on your thigh. Rick would buck his hips into your butt, and you'd respond by gyrating your hips in subtle circles around his..

He'd pull you right back against him by your throat and whisper into your ear. "Are you okay..?"

You'd nod.

"Good.." Rick purred.

He'd start moving his hips in rhythm with your gyrations. And for a moment, you'd both stay like that. The lack of air was slowly starting to become a problem, but you could still hang on a little while longer..

Now. Now's the time.

"Rick.." You'd wheeze.

He'd take that as a sign to let up on your throat. When he let go, you'd inhale deeply. And then, during the most open possible window, you'd open the door of the car and throw yourself out of the ship to the ocean below.


	5. Richie Rick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talk about jumping ship, huh? Could Rick hurt you more than you can hurt yourself? Yes, yes he can. He's Rick Sanchez, he can do everything and more.

You fell out backwards, so you'd be facing Rick on your way down. He looked so confused, verging on angry. Serves him right.. You gave him a shit-eating grin.  
Halfway down the fall, you'd look over to the horizon where the sky met the ocean. It was dark, but it looked like the sun was starting to make its way around the world. The sky over the horizon was turning a deep purple. It was.. lovely, this view from halfway down.

You'd take a deep inhale through your nose, and then you'd hit the water. The waters were cold, and dark. Surprisingly, you weren't torn open or torn apart by the surface tension. Because, you know.. physics exists. But since you were alive, you were now faced with a pressing dilemma. Should you try to swim back home? Or let the waters unforgiving embrace take you down? You probably had.. about 3 minutes left of breath-holding in you. And the air in your lungs was trying to pull you to the surface, so.. maybe it was worth trying to live.

You swam to get to the surface, but the surface kept moving because of the waves. Thankfully, what goes up must also come down, so you'd break the surface when the waves went down. Of course, the wave went back up and took you with it. And it was going opposite the direction you needed to go in. So... this may take a while.  
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if Rick elected to abandon you.

You'd start swimming, hoping those swimming lessons you took when you were a child would come in handy. Front stroke, right? But the waves were carrying you and pushing you out further. No worries... You can totally fight the ocean.

No you can't. This is looking hopeless. You turned to gaze at the sky, hoping to see Rick's ship coming to save you. But there was nothing except the fading stars in the sky as the sun rose and the colours of the morning drowned the stars. Your eyes frantically searched, but couldn't find anything amidst the water splashing in your face and the waves pushing you around. Did he leave you? Or were you pushed out a lot farther than you'd realized? This was such a dumb idea, but was it the price of freedom? Of making a point? Would dying be worth it if for no other reason than to prove a point to Rick?

Maybe you could just.. float for a while. You'd raise your belly up and float like a starfish as the waves moved you around. Your eyes closed, and you'd let yourself flow with the ocean. Sometime during, you started to feel one with the ocean. Like you were slowly becoming at peace with the idea of drowning at sea. A sort of.. twisted mortality lullaby. A meditation on accepting the sudden inevitable.

Then, it felt like you were starting to dream. Maybe you fell asleep, who knows. If you did, it'd be such a peaceful way to die. Sleeping and drowning.. Plus with the unknown alcohol still in your system, that might make for a little more numbing.

You felt lucid. Like you were floating above your body. It was still floating in the water, so that'd be fine. But then, a sound.. It didn't sound like the motion of the ocean. It sounded.. sci-fi. You'd look to the sky and see Rick's ship with a large scanner reading the ocean. Was he looking for you? It was approaching you gradually. Then, the scanner would find you. It'd lock onto you, and the ship dove. So he _was_ looking for you.

For some reason, this brought you so much joy. You felt in your heart the happiness of being worth searching for.

That is, until you opened your eyes. And the sky was empty. Was it really just a dream...? At least you didn't wake up to find yourself drowning.. But it still hurt. And you didn't know which was worse; that you subconsciously wished for Rick to save you, or that you were so fucking happy when you thought he was.

You'd close your eyes again, and decide to maybe just.. sleep off the disappointment. This time, you'd fight against any thoughts of being rescued. It was another short while until your brain started back on its bullshit. It was hearing those damn space ship noises again. You'd open your eyes to wake yourself up and spare yourself the existential dread of the ever-lingering hope, but.. the noise didn't go away.

Great. You were having auditory hallucinations.

You'd let out a sigh that became a groan and eventually a shout to the heavens. " **WHY WON'T YOU JUST LET ME DROWN IN PEACE?!"** You'd cry out, your eyes closing and welling up with frustration tears.

Then, something would block the sun from you. You'd open your eyes. It was Rick's ship. Of course it was.. He'd hover the ship above the water, open the door, and peer down at you from his seat. You'd give him a look, he'd give you a shit-eating grin.   
It still hurt.

"Still wanna drown in peace?" He'd ask, his smile fading. He'd extend a hand out to you.

"I-"

Then, something grabbed you, and pulled you into the water. It was moving quick. When it grabbed you, you looked at Rick. He'd try to reach out and grab you, but you got pulled down. You could see him curse as he fumbled his lab coat for a device to help you. In a few several tens of seconds longer, you'd enter the insanity zone, and then into the dark depths. And then, you'd either die painlessly, or painfully but too deoxygenated to care.

The seconds felt like minutes. You'd close your eyes and accept it. You just wanted to be okay with dying, even if it wasn't on your terms.  
Then, muffled sounds in the water, like gunfire. Whatever grabbed you and dragged you under let go, and something else grabbed your arm and was bringing you back up. You'd open your eyes along the way to see your new captor.  
Rick...  
He just won't let you die. And you hated it, because now you felt like you owed him your life.

You'd break the surface of the water soon and take a deep breath. Remember that awesome lung capacity from before? Even under leagues of pressure, you held your own. Rick, on the other hand, had a device in his mouth that separated oxygen from water so he could breathe. That actually seemed like a pretty nifty gadget. You were almost impressed, but it was drowned out by the lingering and festering despair that you may never escape him. He won't let you.

But why did you want to get away so bad? What were you afraid of?  
Oh, right.. The fact that you were still an ordinary human of ordinary intelligence with ordinary emotions. Things that Rick always felt, but hated that he felt. And that hatred was taken out on everyone he loved and cared about.  
You hate that you love and care about him, because he abuses you on the grounds that he reciprocates the sentiments about you.  
That's gotta be it, right?

He'd crawl into the ship and pull you into it afterwards. You didn't fight him. You didn't have the strength necessary to keep bashing your head into his brick wall. Metaphorically, of course. Instead, you'd take your old seat back in the passengers side, and lay the seat down flat so you could try to.. dry off, I guess? You were out of the water, and it's cold, and you were fighting off the shivers. Rick would situate himself in the drivers seat.

There was an awkward silence.


	6. Big Bang TheoRick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Rick have a heart-to-Rick talk. A moment of the connection, some fluff, and bittersweetness. Until another quick dive into the toxic, suffocating mind of Rick Sanchez.

"So, uh.." Rick began, clearing his throat before continuing, "do you want to talk about what happened?"

At this point, the alcohol has worn off and you were starting to feel the lack of sleep creeping again. The frustration, the despair, the exhaustion. A pressure developed in your chest.  
And then you burst into tears.  
You'd have a moment of hysterical crying, where you would let out wails and sobs and roll around or touch your face or hit the door. And after you had your moment, you adjusted the seat back upright and grabbed a tissue from the glove compartment that you knew he always had, for reasons known to none but Rick and whatever god claims credit. You'd blow your nose, then throw the tissue in the back seat floor. It was basically the dump. You'd always help him clean it, but it was the garbage bin until then.

Rick set the ship for autopilot back to land. It'd take off, and he'd sit back to look at you. He'd clear his throat again. "Is.. that a yes?" He asked.

You'd feel the pressure in your chest again, but you'd take a deep breath.  
"Fuck, Rick... I mean, what do you want me to say?"

"Well, maybe a 'Thank you' for saving your life." He suggested.

"I can't thank you... Because then I'd owe you." You'd reply.

"That's an interesting way to put it." Rick said, incredulously.

"You saved my life.. How can I owe you my life when I was okay with ending it to get away from you?"

The awkward silence returned.

"You don't owe me anything," Rick eventually said. "Consider it returning the favour."

What?

"What?" You asked.

Rick waved his free hand dismissively while holding his flask to his lips. "Look, just forget about it. You don't owe me anything for it, so.. you can say 'Thank you' to me now." He'd reply before tipping his flask back into his mouth.

You let out a single laugh. This man was unbelievable.  
"Fine.. Thank you, Rick, for saving my life."

Rick wouldn't look you in the eye anymore. "You're welcome."

More awkward silence.

"I was so happy when I saw you coming to rescue me.. I thought it meant something that you bothered to even try finding me." You'd say.

"You think it doesn't mean something?" Rick would ask, quirking half his brow up.

You'd hug your arms to your chest and shrug, your eyes downcast at the floorboard. "It has to.. Otherwise, why would you bother?"

A silent moment passed.

"I think I had a near-death experience epiphany." You'd say, to break the silent moment.

"Oh?" Rick inquired.

"I realized that.." you sighed, "I love you, Rick. But loving you hurts. And no matter how hurt I get, I never stop loving you.. And on some level, I hate you for it. And clearly hate myself for it too.. But I could never hate you more than I hate that I still love you.."

The pressure in your chest was back, and it was pushing the tears to flow.

"Look.. If this is some sort of last ditch effort to get rid of me, in case you haven't already noticed, it's not going to work." Rick said, reaching into his lab coat for his flask. He'd open it and take a swig.

"Yeah.. I was afraid of that." You'd reply, reaching into the back seat for an unopened bottle of the mystery booze.

"So, you're just gonna drink?" Rick asked.

"May as well.." You'd say, holding the bottle out to Rick.

He'd look you up and down, then chuckle briefly before handing you his flask and taking the bottle. This time, he'd jam the bottle open on his side door, like he were a frat boy. Classic Rick. He'd hand you your drink, you'd hand him his flask. This precious dynamic.

At least the dynamic was a good thing. Maybe that's why he didn't want you gone, and went out of his way to save you. And maybe you could at least coerce him to make a drug that's like sleep-in-a-pill, or.. preferably-a-smoke.

"So.. Think there's still a party going on?" You'd ask, taking a swig of the beverage.

Rick shook his head. "We don't need to party tonight. Besides, it's probably over now."

"Shame.." You'd mutter, sipping the drink again. "And you'd rather we just sit here and drink while your ship flies us back to land?"

"Well, we don't *just* have to drink." Rick replied.

"I hope you mean nap." You'd reply, giving Rick an exhausted 'haha-half-kidding' half smirk.

Rick would chuckle softly, before reaching into the other side of his labcoat and pulling out a packed pipe and a small torch. He'd offer them to you. "I meant we could also smoke."

You'd perk up and take the pipe & torch eagerly. "You're the genius, after all." You'd say, shooting him a wink before smoking the contents of the bowl. It was some kind of alien weed. That's gonna be great. You'd pass the pipe to him and exhale the smoke slowly. Rick would take the pipe and finish the rest of the bowl, then set the pipe & torch aside. 

Back to drinking. Rick grabbed his flask, you grabbed your bottle. Sip, swig. The drug hit quickly, and you'd rest your head against Rick's shoulder.

"So.. Why the hell did you propose to test my lung capacity out above the ocean? Because obviously you're smart enough to know that it sounds like you were gonna drown me." You'd ask.

"Look, I'll be honest.. It was a fear tactic." Rick replied.

"Wow." You'd say.

"What?" He'd ask.

"You are such an asshole." You'd sigh.

"I know." He'd respond.

"No. Like genuinely, you are an asshole. And I bet that thing that pulled me down was a creation of yours to keep on testing my lung capacity, or to make me depend on you saving me, or both!" You'd huff, back on your bullshit.

"I-.. _Look_." Rick sighed, getting annoyed by being scrutinized so hard by you. "Even if that were true, and I'm not saying it is, you're alive and unharmed."

You'd scoff. "Unharmed? No fucking way. You clearly don't understand that harm goes far beyond physical ramifications."

Rick rolled his eyes. "Oh, _don't_ even.."

"No, let's address the mental and emotional damage you've caused. And not just to me, but to eeeeeverybody in your family and especially to Morty." You'd say.

"No. I'd rather we don't do that." Rick replied, disdainfully.

"Oh, and let's not forget the biggest victim in all of this; yourself."

 _"Please,_ I-"

"Shut up. Because that's all I have to say about it." You'd reply, afterwards sighing and sitting back in your seat. "I just needed to get that off my chest before I die.. And that's _not_ me implying that hanging out with you will kill me, although it very nearly _has_ quite a few times before and is probably going to be the most likely cause of my death. But.. _whatever._ I'm not placing bets on my cause of death."

You and Rick sat in silence for a moment. Then, Rick would take a swig from his flask. Was that thing bottomless? Or does he just refill it off screen a lot? Either way.. therapy.

"If I had to place a bet, I'd say we die from bad drugs." Rick replied, though his words may be in jest, his face was.. morose.

"Bad as in terrible highs? Or bad as in laced? Like how specific are the parameters of your bet?" You'd reply, mimicking Rick's emotionless expression. The tone must be maintained.

Rick would let out a small laugh, then take another hit from the flask. "So.. does this mean you're still down to party?"

You'd roll your eyes, but with a smile. And then chug the rest of your Unknown Beverage, although at this point you were convinced it was some kind of space sangria. **Burp.** "Yeah, I guess it does."

"Great, because-"

" _But first,_ I want some drugs and liquor in my body. Let's get the pregame going."

"Whoa whoa, because I was _going_ to say that _our_ party is still happening."

Right around here, the ship beeped to signal that it was right over your house. And would come to a halt. You and Rick looked at each other for a beat, then started laughing together.  
Hysterically.  
For minutes.   
And when you both came down, you'd lean back in your seat and let out a lengthy exhale. Rick rubbed his eyes and then grabbed a new flask from his lab coat to start drinking from.


End file.
